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Rejection Letters

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Fiction by D.T. RobbinsAug 28, 20208:00 amDecember 11, 2020
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Mermaid Girlfriend (M. S.)

You said the sea called out to you. That the water held magic and you had to be a part of that beauty. I didn’t want to seem like a schmuck. Dark clouds were filling […]

Nonfiction by D.T. RobbinsAug 27, 20208:00 amDecember 11, 2020
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Dear Vivian (Sarah Little)

Dear Vivian, I am not you. You are not me. Not any longer. We spent  wasted  so much time being the same entity. Your mystique was oh-so-cool, so mysterious, like you’d force people around you […]

poetry by D.T. RobbinsAug 26, 20208:00 amDecember 10, 2020
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behind glass, glenn gould’s chair

canted, wood worn like copper plate and cushionless, the boon companion— over even the muse and his canon— sits full sung, with the wurlitzer toccata smeared across its keys by breath wandering, attempt at dialogue. […]

Rejection Letters by D.T. RobbinsAug 25, 20208:00 amDecember 10, 2020
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Rejection Letter: Bridget Lillethorup

Dear Catholic Upbringing, Thank you so much for your interest in my morals and values, as well as your commitment to my fast-growing inferiority complex and panic-inducing sense of shame. Unfortunately, at this time, I […]

Rejection Letters by D.T. RobbinsAug 24, 20208:00 amDecember 10, 2020
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RE: [This Queer Body] SINGLE CHIN HAIR

Dear My Face, Thank you for submitting SINGLE CHIN HAIR for our consideration. Again. While we admire your perseverance, we still believe that SINGLE CHIN HAIR is not a good fit for us at this […]

Fiction by D.T. RobbinsAug 24, 20208:00 amDecember 10, 2020
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Meal Planning

He says, I was thinking of socks and salad for dinner. I’ve just put our daughter down for a nap. I’ve just collected the dishes from lunch. Right? He asks. It’s been a while since […]

Fiction by D.T. RobbinsAug 21, 20208:00 amDecember 10, 2020
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Note on a Countertop (Before Leaving for College)

Child, I have, at times, gotten into cars with people I didn’t know – though that night in Italy shouldn’t count. The unreliable trains, the language barrier, the parade of catcalls, muscled forearms proffered by dashing […]

poetry by D.T. RobbinsAug 20, 20208:00 amDecember 10, 2020
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Sunday Stew

When people ask me how I’m doing, I point to my sternum Tell ‘em it’s a crockpot under there That if I’m going to cook down all the hurt, I may as well go for […]

Fiction by D.T. RobbinsAug 20, 20208:00 amDecember 10, 2020
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The Games Ladies Play, or Some Men Haven’t Got A Clue

Muah! Darlings, wonderful to meet you! I’m so glad you all signed up for my seminar today with me, the infamous Mrs. White! You ladies can call me Blanche, and while some time has passed […]

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